Monotonous
by selhorys
Summary: After her daughter's funeral, Mrs Lancaster becomes overwhelmed by grief; however, with her husband, they recount a warm memory laced with rain, a dress, a cupcake and an embrace.


I.

After the funeral, she broke down.

Her husband's words blurred and the syllables mixed up, and she felt sick and the rain thudded heavily around her. Her thin, bone–white fingers clutched her mauve umbrella and the burden of mascara departed the fine black lashes framing her tearful eyes.

"Darling," he said, taking her in his arms, enveloping her, "darling, shush. She's okay now. We saw her ourselves." She barely heard him. All she could hear was the damned organ from the damned church. "She's with God."

She tore away from him. "And what if God's not real?" she said, her voice surprisingly coherent despite the hysteria. "What if all of this is a lie? Soon we'll be dead. Rats the same size as dogs will be devouring our corpses while the crows make a feast of our eyes as we collapse into war. The air'll go grey with pollution and sickness will be rife. The government won't have the money to supply us with much more, so natural disasters will batter us over and over, wiping us out like it must. And none of this, and none of what I'm saying, and nothing I can ever do till my eyes close for the last time, will ever bring her back. Don't you dare tell me my Hazel's with God when we don't even _know_—"

Her husband touched her softly on the arm and she stilled. Mrs Lancaster was shocked all of a sudden. Her husband cried twice as much as her, yet it was not him making a show. "Our Hazel," he said gently.

A tear slipped down her face, merging with the rainfall. "Everything's so dark in this world, honey," she whispered. "So… monotonous. Like, now Hazel's gone, she took my sunlight away with her. It hurts so bad. It hurts."

"I know it does," he replied, cradling her face. "But Hazel would want you to heal, love. See the colour, okay?" He put an arm around her shoulders, circling her, haloing her like a blanket. "Let's remember her," he said. "Look at the rain. Remember when you refused to take her to the park because it was raining so much?"

"Yes." Mrs Lancaster gave a wobbly smile.

II.

Hazel Grace Lancaster touched the window, up on her tiptoes, her green eyes wide as rain sloshed down the pane. Her small hands were spread like starfish as she half–turned her head towards her mother, mesmerised. "We could just walk, Mommy."

Her mother tapped her on the nose with a floury hand. "I'm making cupcakes at the moment, Haze. Do you want to join in?"

"No," Hazel said, "and don't call me Haze. Anyway, you always tell me to go out all the time. Well, I want to go out now." Her mouth turned petulant.

Hazel's father looked up from his computer. "You heard your mother," he said, as was customary of him. "You don't want to ruin your new dress, don't you, darling? Plus, cupcakes are really nice to eat when it's raining."

"_I don't want cupcakes_!" shrieked Hazel. "Cupcakes just make me feel bloated and I don't even like this dress much." Both parents scented her lie; she adored her dress, and lusted for it even more after she received the knowledge that it was the last one in the store of that design, red with white polka dots. Also, their daughter was partial to cupcakes.

Hazel's father resumed typing. "Well you can't go to the park just yet, Hazel."

It was too painful for her to hear, and she elicited a wail before scrambling to her room. However, once cutlery started clicking, and teeth sank into soft cake with a parting sigh, the bedroom door crept open, revealing Hazel's dark, curious head. Her mother caught sight of her and smiled. Hazel smiled back and fully emerged. "I lied earlier, Mommy. I love cupcakes a lot. May I have one?"

"Have two, have three," her mother said impatiently, with a laugh and an airy wave of her hand. Hazel giggled and took one, biting into it with a hunger only small children possess.

After the cupcakes were gone, Hazel hugged her mother to her. "I never wanna lose you, Mommy."

"And I hope never to lose you, Hazel," Mrs Lancaster replied with a small smile.


End file.
